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arts / rec.arts.comics.creative / LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part Two

SubjectAuthor
* LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part TwoArthur Spitzer
`- Re: LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part TwoDrew Nilium

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LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part Two

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From: arspitz...@gmail.com (Arthur Spitzer)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part Two
Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2021 21:09:11 -0000 (UTC)
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 by: Arthur Spitzer - Sun, 14 Nov 2021 21:09 UTC

You can sift through the racc list archive
https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/
or you can try google groups racc for the whole issue of LNH vII #50.

And this is part two of the Big Mega Multi-Writer Issue of LNH vII #50.
There were Eight LNH Writers involved in the writing of this and they
are as follow: Jeanne Morningstar, Rob Rogers, Scott Eiler,
Dave Van Domelen, Arthur Spitzer (me), Drew Nilium, Martin Phipps, and
Saxon Brenton.

You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad has been revealed as a Dorf. But
what are the Dorfs exactly? Will we get Wikipedia Galactica entry to
enlighten us? And if so -- can we really trust the Wikipedia Galactica
-- I mean what kind of agenda do they have? A Galactic one?!

And while that's happening, a group of LNH'rs are going down in to the
sub-sub basements to unlock Irony Man's memories in the hopes that it
will explain all this -- but can they handle what these memories might
reveal about the LNH? And can you, dear reader, handle them? Can you?!!
I mean -- okay -- since you're not an LNH character -- it probably won't
be as impactful on you as it is on them -- but you never know...

And now...

_
| | Classic
| | =
| | ____ ____ _ ____ ___
| |__ | [] | | [] | | | | [] | | _ \

|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
||
|_| OF NET.HEROES

ADVENTURES #222

=====================
LNH vII #50 Part Two
=====================

From: Andrew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Date: Sun Nov 2 16:20:29 PST 2014

--LNH-- --LNH-- --LNH--

According to the Wikipedia Galactica (which has kept the relevant
page locked for centuries, as Dorf-related pages tend to attract a fair
amount of vandalism), the Dorfs emerged from seemingly nowhere five
thousand years ago, around the same time as the beginning of recorded
history on the minor but persistently irritating planet known as Earth.
Fleets of Dorf ships flooded from outside the galaxy, bringing
devastation in their wake. They destroyed the original homeworld of the
Inhilators, almost brought down the Christicantthinkofagoodname Empire,
wiped out six trillion Dvorakians, reduced the numbers of the Arcane to
no more than a few hundred (from which they never recovered), and caused
even more death indirectly by crashing the galactic communications
network with their constant troll-posts. Even the Ultimate Dullifier of
Alt.lactus had failed to stop them in their tracks. After the Great
Flamewar, which lasted for 69 transgalactic megawhatzits (approximately
a century and a half), an order of gods and heroes known as the
Guardians of All That Is joined together to defeat them. The Dorf
finally agreed to a truce and stayed for a time within the area which
forms the core of their empire now.

No one knows the history of the Dorf before they came to our galaxy.
According to their own legends, however, they were once a peaceful and
quiet people who dedicated themselves to the pursuits of philosophy.
Their world knew no crime, disease, or war. It was also incredibly
boring. But this world came to an end when a being they called the
Prophet, one of the ancient Net.Trolls, arrived in their galaxy. It was
this being who first brought the power of Senseless Violence to their
galaxy. It warped them in body and soul and began a war that rendered
their whole galaxy uninhabitable. The Prophet was never seen again,
though there were rumors that after the Great Collectible Trading Card
Crisis he had attacked the Earth and met his death at last. [In The
Flame Wars IV -- Footnote Girl]

But ever since then, the Dorf have been plotting to restore their
Prophet to life and regain their ancestral glory...

--LNH-- --LNH-- --LNH--

Somewhere in the depths of the endless void, countless light-aeons
beyond the known galactic cluster, there lies a world that orbits no
sun, coated by metal and shining with the reflected gleam of a billion
stars. This is the world known as Topphorti, home of the dark Net.Gods.
It resembles what the people of Earth know as a disco ball. There was
another world that stood opposite it once, a green and fruitful world of
song and rejoicing, but that world is no more.

Beneath the surface of the shining metal world is a warren of dark
and cramped caves where workers who have never seen the light of a sun
toil forever. Their only outlet for rest is dancing on an equally dark
and crowded dancefloor, desperate for empty hedonism, dancing to
thumping and insistent beats. Countless of them die every day on the
dancefloor, crushed to death by their peers, just as they die in the
factories. Yet they still dance.

Imagine a boot stamping on the dancefloor forever.

A Dorf superawesomegrimdarkmegadreadnought emerged from hyperspace
above that world. It was an enormous techno-gothic nightmare, bristling
with flying buttresses covered in hideous gargoyles wielding chainsaws.
It was built more for form than function, but dangerous nonetheless. It
dropped seven massive bombs in the shape of screaming, distorted faces.
Each of these flamebombs had the power to destroy an entire planet. The
seven flamebombs exploded in a deafening crash and a giant conflagration
that covered the planet's surface, reflected up into space by the
mirrors that coated it. When the light faded, there was a tiny crack in
the planet's surface. Just large enough for the Dorfs to teleport
themselves through.

A party of twelve Dorf soldiers, a Dorf in a general's uniform, and
another in leather armor covered in spikes and chains who looked like he
could have stepped out of a thirteen-year-old boy's math class notebook
appeared in one of the dark tunnels. "It is time now," said the general.
"Soon the Heart of the Prophet will be ours once more. Are you ready,
you slime-sucking space-leeches?"

"Yes sir, General Jarrek!" said one of the Dorf soldiers. The others
looked at him in horror.

"I don't think I heard you right. What did you say?"

"I vomit on the corpse of your mother, sir!" said the Dorf soldier
nervously.

"Not good enough. Marshall LaRocque, take care of him."

The figure in spikes and chains grinned widely, revealing a mouth
full of spiky yellow teeth. Then he leaped at the soldier and proceeded
to savage him. The other Dorf turned away in disgust. He was an elite
hero-killer, who had Descended and become one with the power of
Senseless Violence. Three times he was thought to die at the hands of
the LNH, but Death itself could no longer contain him. He could reach
depths of cruelty which horrified even his fellow Dorf.

"Your guts are too small!" he said to the decapitated head of his
former comrade, a look of horror frozen on its face. "Oh well." They
then heard the tramping of boots coming down the tunnel. It was squadron
of heavily armored figures carrying massive clubs engraved with
circuitry -- the Club Bangers, pitiless servants of Flipseid, Lord of
Topphorti.

"Oh yeaaaaah, now we're talking!" said the Marshall. "Are you ready
to LaRocque?" He drew his two vorpal chainswords and lay into the Club
Bangers, the other Dorf shooting from behind him. "Oh yeah, the sweet
symphony of chaos and death! That's music to my ears, baby!"

"Enough!" said a voice from the shadows. The Dorf soldiers found
they were frozen in place. A being with skin like a grooved vinyl record
walked down the tunnel. "What do you want here?" His voice was low and
rumbling like an earthquake.

General Jarrek turned to the newcomer, and for a moment lost all his
composure and and was overtaken by a look of sheer terror. "Flipseid. We
have come here to recover the heart of our Prophet."

He laughed. It was the most ghastly thing Jarrek had ever heard. "Do
you mean OMAR? The one you call the Prophet is the least of my
servants."

"Nevertheless, he almost destroyed the LNH once. With our help he
could truly succeed."

"And what makes you think you could succeed where so many others
have failed?"

"We have Marshall LaRocque on our side. And if you do not give us
the Heart, we will unleash him against you and yours."

"Hmm. Yes, he could be a nuisance."

"Hey, I'm not just a nuisance! I'm a nuisance and a half, disco
daddy, and don't you forget it!"

"Didn't the Legion kill you twice?"

"Yeah, but this time I'll be ready! I'm a mean lean Legion-killin'
machine! I'm ready to rub the blood!"

"The last few times, he faced them unprepared. This time, I have a
plan. I have waited this day since before they were formally founded. I
was the only survivor of those who faced them on their first mission. I
have watched them from afar and studied their tactics, waiting for the
right moment to strike. That moment has come."


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Re: LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part Two

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From: pwer...@gmail.com (Drew Nilium)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: Re: LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #222: LNH vII #50 Part Two
Date: Tue, 16 Nov 2021 03:59:02 -0000 (UTC)
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 by: Drew Nilium - Tue, 16 Nov 2021 03:59 UTC

On 11/14/21 4:09 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote:
<snip>
> You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad has been revealed as a Dorf. But
> what are the Dorfs exactly? Will we get Wikipedia Galactica entry to
> enlighten us? And if so -- can we really trust the Wikipedia Galactica
> -- I mean what kind of agenda do they have? A Galactic one?!

How do I get an account on there, anyway

> And while that's happening, a group of LNH'rs are going down in to the
> sub-sub basements to unlock Irony Man's memories in the hopes that it
> will explain all this -- but can they handle what these memories might
> reveal about the LNH? And can you, dear reader, handle them? Can you?!!
> I mean -- okay -- since you're not an LNH character -- it probably won't
> be as impactful on you as it is on them -- but you never know...

I mean, they *are* really sad, when we get there.

> According to the Wikipedia Galactica (which has kept the relevant
> page locked for centuries, as Dorf-related pages tend to attract a fair
> amount of vandalism), the Dorfs emerged from seemingly nowhere five
> thousand years ago, around the same time as the beginning of recorded
> history on the minor but persistently irritating planet known as Earth.

"Minor but persistently irritating" is how my enemies describe me! <3

> Fleets of Dorf ships flooded from outside the galaxy, bringing
> devastation in their wake. They destroyed the original homeworld of the
> Inhilators, almost brought down the Christicantthinkofagoodname Empire,
> wiped out six trillion Dvorakians, reduced the numbers of the Arcane to
> no more than a few hundred (from which they never recovered), and caused
> even more death indirectly by crashing the galactic communications
> network with their constant troll-posts. Even the Ultimate Dullifier of
> Alt.lactus had failed to stop them in their tracks. After the Great
> Flamewar, which lasted for 69 transgalactic megawhatzits (approximately
> a century and a half), an order of gods and heroes known as the
> Guardians of All That Is joined together to defeat them. The Dorf
> finally agreed to a truce and stayed for a time within the area which
> forms the core of their empire now.

There are so many LNH references in this, and so much subtle
continuity-bolstering. Jeanne's so *good* at that when they go off.

> No one knows the history of the Dorf before they came to our galaxy.
> According to their own legends, however, they were once a peaceful and
> quiet people who dedicated themselves to the pursuits of philosophy.
> Their world knew no crime, disease, or war. It was also incredibly
> boring.

Heeheehee

> But this world came to an end when a being they called the
> Prophet, one of the ancient Net.Trolls, arrived in their galaxy.

Subtle use of "Net.Trolls" to refer to the Topphorti New Mods.

> Somewhere in the depths of the endless void, countless light-aeons
> beyond the known galactic cluster, there lies a world that orbits no
> sun, coated by metal and shining with the reflected gleam of a billion
> stars. This is the world known as Topphorti, home of the dark Net.Gods.
> It resembles what the people of Earth know as a disco ball. There was
> another world that stood opposite it once, a green and fruitful world of
> song and rejoicing, but that world is no more.

Someday I'm gonna do a fuckin' epic Net.Gods storyline, you watch

> Beneath the surface of the shining metal world is a warren of dark
> and cramped caves where workers who have never seen the light of a sun
> toil forever. Their only outlet for rest is dancing on an equally dark
> and crowded dancefloor, desperate for empty hedonism, dancing to
> thumping and insistent beats. Countless of them die every day on the
> dancefloor, crushed to death by their peers, just as they die in the
> factories. Yet they still dance.
>
> Imagine a boot stamping on the dancefloor forever.

GOD THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD. LIKE. HOLY FUCK. YES. FUCK. THIS HIGH LITERARY
BULLSHIT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH, HECK

> A Dorf superawesomegrimdarkmegadreadnought

And then to go immediately from that to this X3 <3 <3 <3 PERFECTION.

> It was an enormous techno-gothic nightmare, bristling
> with flying buttresses covered in hideous gargoyles wielding chainsaws.

God that's so great.

> It was built more for form than function, but dangerous nonetheless. It
> dropped seven massive bombs in the shape of screaming, distorted faces.
> Each of these flamebombs had the power to destroy an entire planet. The
> seven flamebombs exploded in a deafening crash and a giant conflagration
> that covered the planet's surface, reflected up into space by the
> mirrors that coated it. When the light faded, there was a tiny crack in
> the planet's surface. Just large enough for the Dorfs to teleport
> themselves through.

How much does this scene build up both Flipseid and the Dorfs, man

> He was an elite
> hero-killer, who had Descended and become one with the power of
> Senseless Violence. Three times he was thought to die at the hands of
> the LNH, but Death itself could no longer contain him.

Taking this silly continuity and making it intensely poetic, jeeeeez

> "Your guts are too small!"

heeheehee

> It was squadron
> of heavily armored figures carrying massive clubs engraved with
> circuitry -- the Club Bangers, pitiless servants of Flipseid, Lord of
> Topphorti.

I think this is the first time this name was used and daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn

> "Hey, I'm not just a nuisance! I'm a nuisance and a half, disco
> daddy, and don't you forget it!"
>
> "Didn't the Legion kill you twice?"
>
> "Yeah, but this time I'll be ready! I'm a mean lean Legion-killin'
> machine! I'm ready to rub the blood!"

God I love all the weird-ass dialog Marshall LaRocque gets

> And from a distance, cloaked from sight, the cosmic protector and
> reserve LNHer known as Seyfert watched. He'd known the Dorfs were
> planning something terrible but had no idea it would be anything like
> this. If only he could make it to Earth and warn the Legion in time...

Jeanne brought in this character of mine as a surprise and it worked so well. :D

> Kid Enthusiastic ran into the cafeteria, sneakers skidding on the
> tile floor. "Dun dun dunnnnnnnn!"

Another bit of moving characters around. X3

> "Just a minute." The cafeteria doors slammed open. Standing there
> was... another Irony Man! "Might I inquire into who it is that's
> standing in front of me?"
>
> "The real deal!" said Toony Stork, taking off his Irony Man helmet-
> head-thingee. "And you are?"
>
> "I figured you knew that, seeing as you were the one that hired me
> to replace you," said the mysterious Irony Man II.

Yesssssss.

> "Why are *you* even in the Irony Man suit?" asked Cynical Lass
> suspiciously.
>
> "Because -- I'm Irony Man? Oh yeah, and Catalyst Lass invited me to
> the big bash. What the hell is everyone's problem?"

I love when it's clear who wrote what. X3

> Could it be that he was wrong about You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-
> Enough Lad -- that he hadn't always been a Dorf? Could it be that
> whatever had caused You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad to change was
> also starting to happen to him?

Excellent retcon making the plot go.

> And then he
> looked at his lab coat -- and at a small piece of Cheesecake Eater Lad's
> Taco Salad Cheesecake that was on it. This was not good -- not good at
> all. Could the cheesecake be changing the DNA of LNH'rs and turning them
> into shapeshifting Dorfs?

You know, i'd believe it.

> Why should he warn these stupid LNH'rs, thought Dr. Stomper. They
> all needed to die -- for their past sins. Yes, die! Kill them all! Dr.
> Stomper looked at his hands, quickly changing into claws. His teeth
> began to change into razor sharp fangs. Yes, time to kill them.
>
> Kill them all!!!!

God, I've been there after a shift on the register.

> "Oh, very well spotted!" snarked Stomper with sarcasm so acidic that
> it could have dissolved holes in the floor. "I guess you've got
> functioning eyeballs. Here, let me RIP THEM OUT FOR YOU!"

I believe this part is where Saxon steps in~

> Stomper lunged for Hats Lad, who dodged and fell backwards into a
> rack of battle cheesecakes. Cheesecake-Eater Lad's special Knockout
> Cheesecake landed on his head, and he was out for the count.

And another "hey this character needs to be knocked out" fix. X3

> However, Cynical Lass stepped forward before anyone else could act.
> "Oh, there are some wankers whose presence is obvious," she said coolly
> to Doctor Stomper.


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